


Rediscovered Treasures

by Nalyra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Art, Canon Compliant, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Octopi & Squid, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Rimming, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: Prompt by InfiniteCrisis: “Will finds Hannibal's stash "erotica" from around the world.  Hannibal of course claims that it's all "art"--very sophisticated and classy--and Will is just like, "that is a woman fucking a squid ffs”Tagged with "tentacle sex" but it might not be the... tentacle sex you are expecting under that tag. :)





	Rediscovered Treasures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InfiniteCrisis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteCrisis/gifts).



It’s not as if Will hadn’t suspected that Hannibal would have hidden stashes of property in various places around the world. Several safe houses later it really is wholly unsurprising. There have been fitting clothes in each and every one of them after all. For both of them. And wine.

It’s not as if Will didn’t think that Hannibal was anything other than a connoisseur of all things that can possibly be enjoyed either. And then some. Though of course, right now, they only enjoy actual food they can stomach and rubbing bi-oil on each other’s various scars. 

Still. 

Will rubs his hand over his Adam’s apple while he swallows, his eyes glued to the magazines. And photos. And prints. 

Sketches. 

Will swallows again, his hand reaching slowly, his ears burning. He is hot, uncomfortably so, feeling Hannibal’s burning gaze from across the room, heavy and unyielding. He unbuttons the first button, pulling the collar away from his throat, his skin slightly sweaty. He shoots a not quite annoyed glance over to Hannibal, who sits on the couch nonchalantly, waiting to see Will unpack the crate he found in the attic.  
Will pushes the first photo away, reaching for a magazine, flipping through.  
Black and white photography, some of the pages yellowed, dark makeup and short hair, low heels. Suggestive, but not too explicit. Not like the photo that burns itself into his mind immediately after, the arch of a back caught in apparent mid-orgasm, the hands clenching on narrow hips, muscles locked.

The next magazine. Snails, caressing intimately, predominantly male subjects in varying stages of ecstasy.  
A photo of a woman, pleasuring herself. Very explicit. Will’s mouth is dry. Will clears his throat, scratching his brow with his thumb, clicking his tongue, his breath rushing out. “Guess I found your porn.”

Hannibal chuckles, very low, something in his voice that tingles down Will’s spine. He inhales, audibly, and Will swallows again, refusing to be embarrassed by his own reaction to the images. Hannibal sighs softly, putting his sketchbook away with gentle movements, the click when he puts the pencil down thundering between them. “You have found some of my erotic art.” He pushes himself up from the couch and Will shivers, feeling Hannibal’s presence like a vicious burn, scorching his side. “I admit it is fascinating.”

Will snorts gently, pulling up a sketch, a reproduction of a very detailed snail image, holding it up. “I can see that.” He lowers the sketch, putting it carefully to the side to look at the photo beneath it, the photo of a deep throating making him clear his own throat again, mirror neurons providing phantom pressure. “Do I… need to be aware of more animal… erotica?” He chances a look at Hannibal, sees him tilt his head. “I’m not so sure I want to see some of the imagery I have heard of some establishments.”

Hannibal steps close, the oxygen in the room seemingly evaporating slowly, shaking his head once. “No, I do not find these establishments very erotic. I have you know that everything I have in here is on a very sophisticated and classic level.”

Will raises his eyebrows at him, pushing another magazine aside. Hannibal’s leg pushes by his shoulder, so close to where he is kneeling on the floor next to the box now. Another photo, this time of an actual anal penetration, once more black and white, shadows enhancing. Will exhales shakily, feeling Hannibal’s eyes bore into his skull, his voice soft. “Surely you have seen erotica before, Will? And, if not as much then descriptive pictures must have been part of your work as a profiler?”

Will clears his throat again, trying to calm his thundering heart. “Of course. I must say though, that this collection is… very powerful.” And the company not exactly innocuous he doesn’t add. “And I really tried to separate work from these… intents.” 

Hannibal hums in agreement, tilting his head. “Art has the power to entice us, even if the intent is crude. Lets us explore our proclivities even if we are unable to in our everyday life.” He bends down and picks up the photo Will had just looked at. “Take this image for example, shadows carefully cast. It shows the white skin where the fingers press in, holding apart. The veins, glistening with the lube. The stretch around it, covered in evidence of his partner’s pleasure.” He pauses, his red eyes glittering in the low light when they lock with Will’s, like a punch to the stomach. Hannibal’s voice is barely audible, saturated with double meaning. “Riveting.” 

Will swallows and tears his gaze away, his body throbbing. He knows Hannibal knows and he cannot breathe, straining. He blinks rapidly, picking up a photo that’s turned upside down by chance. “And this, what can you…” He hesitates, needing a moment to process, his brain sluggish. He frowns, tilting the photo, voice incredulous. “That is a woman, fucking a squid, Hannibal. For literal fuck’s sake.” He looks up, pulling a face, voice reflecting his irritation. “Sophisticated and classy, my ass.” He huffs, putting the image down again, rubbing his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Hannibal shifts slightly next to him, his aura a darkly radiant fog, tearing at Will. “Yes. Imagine it though, how it was for her, Will. Little suctions, gliding, in all the right places. Secure in the knowledge her partner would make sure nothing else… more unsavory happened. Safe to know she could close her eyes and let herself fall. Over and over again.”

Of course. Will has to close his eyes, gasping silently, his mind conjuring the scene effortlessly. Clothes rustle and Hannibal’s aftershave tickles up Will’s nose, peppermint breath gliding over Will’s lips. “Imagine how it had felt for her as a tongue replaced the squid. How good it had felt to give some of the pleasure back eventually.” Will moans a shuddering breath, opening his eyes to Hannibal’s now black ones, his words almost inaudible. “She sank down on you willingly, clenching around you, slick and high strung once more, enjoying your using your fingers in addition to sharpen it even more.” He inhales brokenly, eyes locked, his body tensing. Preparing.

Hannibal leans forward just a bit, his left hand ghosting up Will’s thigh. “I like giving my partners pleasure.” He tilts his head just a bit, his eyes dropping to Will’s mouth. “And would you not enjoy it, Will?” His eyes snap up again, making Will gasp, words failing him, everything narrowed down to the hand hovering so close, to the eyes, demanding his soul. The eyes that come even closer, electricity singing between them, words whispered. “Gliding and wet, pushing. And…” Hannibal pauses, shifting slightly. “And something sharp, pushing you over on demand.” His thumb nail digs into Will through the cloth, the sensation just sharp enough, just surprising enough, just rough enough. Will arches, awash in a whiteout of pleasure, more feeling than hearing Hannibal inhale, fingers fisting into his hair, holding him in the arch, breath along Will’s jugular, the words a brilliant caress. “Magnificent.”

 

*****

 

The photos shift a bit beneath Will’s head when he turns his head, turning a bit into the fingers lightly kneading his scalp. Hannibal shifts next to him to adapt, pushing the box to the side a bit in the process. Will blinks slowly, exhaling heavily when he forces himself to look up, lock his gaze with Hannibal again, who is watching him. Like a hawk. Shark, Will corrects himself silently. Which fits with the squid. His lips twitch into a grin and Hannibal’s eyes narrow, his fingers tightening. “A good thought?”  
Will raises an eyebrow, touching the tip of his tongue to his left canine before he answers. He cannot keep the sated lewdness from his tone. “The best.”  
Hannibal inhales, his gaze dropping to Will’s mouth. “Will you share it with me?”  
Will hesitates and then… gives, dropping his weight into Hannibal’s hand, deliberately licking his lips. Watches as Hannibal follows the movement. “Maybe…”  
Hannibal freezes and then blinks up, the actual closing and opening of the eyes so purposefully slow it feels like a caress. His tone holds no inflection, very carefully so. “How could I tip the scales in my favor?”  
Will grins for a moment and then reaches up, pulling the lightly bent photo up from under his head. He looks at it and then frowns, turning it around for Hannibal to be able to look at it. “Were you observing or participating?”  
Hannibal takes the photo from him with his right hand, his left taking up kneading Will’s scalp again, expression shifting into sly amusement. “Observing.” He looks down at Will for a split second, eyes flashing. Teasing. “And later, participating.” He puts the photo down next to Will, finger tips hovering for a moment. “The lube used was a warming up kind. I really enjoyed it as well, a bit later on.” 

Fuck. Will closes his eyes, snorting when Hannibal chuckles at him. He sniffs haughtily, and then has to laugh, undulating slightly before he opens his eyes again, letting them wander over Hannibal’s face. “Isn’t it weird for us to be like this, now? Here? You, leaning over me, holding me after I have just…”  
He clicks his tongue, shrugging slightly. Hannibal smirks, his right hand coming to rest next to Will’s head. “After you just experienced the little Death?” Hannibal’s teeth flash, his gaze turning wistful for a moment. “I have drawn this, years ago.” His eyes flit back and forth between Will’s. “Do you remember, Will?”  
Will frowns, blinking slowly. “Achilles leaning over Patroclus, felled on the field of war, experiencing… Death, after wearing Achilles armor.” Will narrows his eyes, mind racing. “As I just wore your past experiences, making them my own…” He inhales deeply, feeling their clothing brush. “I was not aware this was our battlefield. Or that you are mourning my … Death.”  
Hannibal tilts his head, weighing it, his tone careful. “I would like it to be our battlefield, where Death is only mourned if not joined or observed.” He pulls his hand up, his fingertips ghosting over the scar in Will’s forehead. “I would deem the throes of passion a worthy price in this life we fought so hard to win.” His fingertips lower, drawing a line of fire. “As long as our beasts are sated.”  
Will swallows, pressing his lips together for a moment. “As long as we can sate our beasts, yes.”  
Hannibal draws his fingers down the length of Will’s nose, letting it drop to Will’s cupid’s bow. “Indeed.” He presses down, pushing Will’s mouth open slowly, gaze riveted to Will’s lips. His voice sounds far away. “I would sate my beast on the honey of your lips.”  
Will shivers and closes his eyes, fire traveling down his spine. His lips close around Hannibal’s fingers on instinct, his tongue touching the calloused tips, something that could or could not be a moan fanning across his face. Hannibal pushes slowly, and Will’s hands clench on the floor, paper crinkling between his fingers. He doesn’t suck, just holds, the sheer intimacy stifling. Hannibal bends down, the tip of his tongue pressing into the barely healed scar on Will’s cheek for a moment, before withdrawing. “Imagine, Will. Imagine a touch, gliding, miniature suction on the gnarled nerve endings of our kintsugi. Imagine… salty wetness traveling across your lips, insinuating. Imagine opening up, giving yourself up to it.”  
Will swallows, moaning when the fingers are withdrawn, opening his eyes, pupils blown. “I just did… as you well know.” He shifts slightly, his clothes sticky in places. Wet fingers glide over his mouth, goosebumps spreading. Will shivers, searching Hannibal’s black eyes, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “Would you… sate your beast’s hunger now?” 

A small smile steals itself across Hannibal’s lips, there and gone again, right before he bends down and glides into Will, their mouths fitting together immediately, instinctively, an age old dance of hunger and delight, moans falling on deaf ears. Will’s hands shoot up, clenching in the silvery strands of Hannibal’s hair immediately, opening and demanding, chasing the elusive taste of ‘them’, mixed with the remnants of wine and dessert chocolate. The first brush of tongue is like a jolt to the system, bodies arching into each other, hands gripping even tighter. Hannibal’s right hand wanders to Will’s lower back, pressing Will to himself, their kiss turning messy, a broken piece jotting into place in Will’s stomach, hurting impossibly good.  
Will pulls and Hannibal follows, settling on his body, legs entwining. Something beneath Will’s head crinkles, the soft sound piercing through the fog of lust in his brain. He rips his mouth away, gasping, feeling Hannibal lock onto his throat immediately. “I’m crinkling your sophisticated and classy art…”  
Hannibal growls a bit against his skin and Will groans, lightly slapping Hannibal’s shoulder afterwards. “No, I’m serious. You know how you are with your stuff. I’d never hear the end of it.”  
Hannibal bites softly at his jugular and then raises his head, eyes sparkling. “I believe we would need to replace each and every damaged piece art, then.” He smiles, tone lewd. “Even the squid, I believe…”  
Will groans again, pulling him down for a kiss once more, speaking in between breaths. “Like a catalogue of kinks…”  
Hannibal bites at his upper lip softly, running his tongue over it to soothe it after. “An assortment of proclivities, yes.” He snarls, something dangerous entering his eyes for a moment. “I cannot wait to discover however I may pleasure you…” 

Will smirks and then frowns, weirded out by his own thought. “Is this what this is? Physical pleasure?”  
Hannibal narrows his eyes, flitting back and forth between Will’s. “This is but an extension of what we are and what we are to each other.” Hannibal’s eyes crinkle, geniality suffusing his face into a warm glow. “I would think no other being on this earth would be allowed to throw me off a cliff, Will Graham.” The glow fractures with sudden vulnerability, taking Will’s breath. “I have loved no other being more, nor suffered by one more. You are ‘mylimasis’ to me, Will.” He blinks, his eyes a blackish red glow. “Beloved.”  
Will’s vision wavers and then clears, the tear falling unheeded, the kiss that follows burning both their souls, a transfer of life energy, necessary and inescapably.

Will presses their foreheads together when it finally breaks, his emotions raging, impossible to voice. Hannibal hums against him, his whisper loud between them. “Now that I have said ‘I love you’ and meant it if I may say, may I pleasure you now?”  
Will snorts and then cackles, sniffing suspiciously. “Oh gosh, yeah, by all means. Want to relocate?” He looks sideways at a few crinkled photographs. “I think we could relive your art without further destroying it, don’t you think?”  
Hannibal clicks his tongue, his eyebrows rising a bit, his tone carefully neutral. “All of it?”  
Will narrows his eyes, though he laughs a bit. “Well, now I’m scared.”  
Hannibal chuckles and then pushes himself up, pulling Will up as well. “I promise no lasting effects.” He leans in, nipping lightly on Will’s lips. “This time.” He turns and pulls Will with him, never releasing his hands and Will grins, feeling lighter with each step, the fire in his gut rekindling. He watches the muscles roll in Hannibal’s shoulders, the movements of his body, melting with the images of the various erotica. He just has to ask, following Hannibal into the bathroom uncaringly. “Are you on those pictures as well? Or were you always out of frame.”  
Hannibal reaches into the shower, letting the water run, turning to unbutton Will’s shirt, very slowly, eyes fixed on the skin he reveals. His voice sounds far away. “I was the one deep throated, and there is a picture somewhere, where I wanted to see what my skin looked right after a hit with a bamboo stick.” He bends forward, pressing a kiss to the skin, muscle and bone over Will’s heart, tone mischievous. “And of course I was the squid handler.”  
Will exhales a shuddering laugh. “Of course.” He licks his lips, watching Hannibal pull the tails of his shirt out, reach for Will’s belt, pulling it out slowly. “Don’t you wanna know…?”  
Hannibal lowers himself to one knee, pulling down Will’s zipper carefully, hands ghosting over the hardness there. “Know what, Will? Whether you have experience? I know that you know all about it. I know you are beyond aroused once more and willing.” He looks up, grinning before he sucks at the wet spot in Will’s underwear for a moment. “I know that I am able to pleasure you properly.”  
Will barks a laugh, feeling light headed, something nagging at him. He swallows, bravery forcing the words out. “I want you to take your pleasure too…”  
Hannibal looks up again, his gaze scorching, his lips hovering over the wet cloth. A glint enters his eyes and Will could not tear his gaze away if he tried, Hannibal’s words reaching him over the roaring in his ears. “As you wish.”  
With that he pushes himself up, coming to stand in front of Will, a foot away. Will blinks slowly and then shrugs the shirt off, kicking his remaining clothes and underwear off as well. He lets Hannibal see, the gaze a leaden caress, grounding and buffeting and attacking in equal measure. He raises his arms after a few moments, starting to pull out Hannibal’s tie, undressing him in turn, very slowly. Hannibal stands there, seemingly unfazed, only the obscene dent in his own trousers belying his control. Will steps near when everything except the underwear is gone, his hand ghosting over the dent, feeling the heat. He hooks his thumb into the briefs, pushing the cloth down without looking, eyes locked with Hannibal’s. He pushes forward, gasping as they come into direct contact, pushing forward even more. Hannibal puts his left hand on Will’s waist and steps backwards with him into the shower, the fanning out ‘rain’ from the large rain water shower head dipping the situation into the surreal.  
Will steps even closer, his hands coming up to glide up Hannibal’s arms, their bodies coming into full contact. He sighs and closes his eyes, feels Hannibal’s hands roam wildly. “Skin hunger…” Hannibal sighs against his throat, tongue licking a path up his jugular. “Yes.” His hands push forward and down, unabashedly pushing, probing, making Will moan and hiss and Hannibal groan. “I hunger for your skin, inside and out, everywhere.” He pushes his mouth into Will’s neck and Will embraces him, widening his stance slightly, accommodating subconsciously immediately. He licks at Hannibal’s ear and grins when he feels the reaction, doing it again and again until they are both grinding against each other, their skin growing sweaty, immediately washed away.  
Hannibal comes up again slowly, mouthing along Will’s jaw, their mouths joining again, easily, addictively. And then Hannibal draws back and turns Will, mouthing along his neck, softly pushing into him. Will gasps, his world narrowing down, impossible turned on and frantic, breath coming in gasps. Hannibal hums, stroking gently down his flanks before he kisses down Will’s spine, dipping the tip of his tongue into each indent, caressing each vertebra.  
He pushes at Will’s shoulder blades and Will bends with a groan, crunching his eyes shut, his hands pushing against the wall for support. Hannibal drops to his knees behind him, kneading, spreading, fingers almost there. It’s hypnotic. When the first touch of tongue comes Will keens, the sound raw and brutal somehow, ripped from the very depths of his body. Hannibal sighs and then licks again, soft pressure, gentle and slick, again and again until Will is shaking, desperately wanting more. He reaches back and pushes Hannibal forward, a shout forced from him when Hannibal complies, easily, the chuckle felt.  
“Oh god…” The exclamation is spoken without a conscious thought and Will moans deeply when Hannibal presses deep, something very good beckoning. “Please.”  
Hannibal withdraws and Will feels bereft, open and high strung, blood thundering in his ears. Hannibal kisses his way back up again and then leans out, getting something out of the drawer next to the shower. Will looks back, gaze wild, catching a feral grin for a moment before Hannibal pushes him back forward, albeit gently, his tone amused and warm. “Just feel, Will.”  
Will shoots him a darkish look, watching as Hannibal catches some water to rinse out his mouth before he opens the tube, keeping the gel out of the main spray. Hannibal looks at him, raising his eyebrows, fingers hovering. “Just feel, mylimasis.”  
Will exhales shudderingly, turning towards the tiles again, his reward a slick push, alien and weird, intruding and intimate, ending in an exposure of pleasure, taking his breath. Hannibal breathes something that might have been his name before he does it again and again, until Will claws at the tiles. He finally withdraws his fingers and there is the sensation of movement behind Will, making him shiver. But Hannibal only grabs him by the hips softly and pulls him back and down, into his lap, heat burning into Will’s back. Will takes Hannibal’s left hand, bringing it to his own cock, stroking himself with it, words breathed. “Gliding and wet.” He lets his head fall back onto Hannibal’s shoulder for a moment before he reaches back, feeling, his fingertips gliding over slick skin, his words whispered. “Pushing.” He flashes a smile at Hannibal who tilts his head to lock eyes with him, eyes fathomless black. “Well, soon.”  
Hannibal ghosts a kiss onto his nose, pushing him up slowly and positioning him and Will raises up, pressing against the walls to hold himself. He exhales and then lets himself lower very slowly, waiting each time the pressure is too much, breathing through it, Hannibal’s hands supporting him, gripping tightly. And then his body gives and he sinks down, a moaned shout coinciding with a gasp from Hannibal. He holds still for a moment, limbs shaking, feeling too full and not enough, alien and instinctual all rolled into one, with pleasure tethering just at the fringes. Hannibal starts kneading his hips gently and Will sighs, suddenly restless, his body finding its rhythm by its own accord.  
The soft slaps echo around the bathroom, broken by moans and sighs, fire curling in Will’s gut. He reaches forward to take himself into hand but Hannibal pulls his hands away, growling into the skin on his back. “And something sharp, pushing you over on demand.”  
With that he pushes Will forward, the changed angle making stars explode behind Will’s eyes, every drag and pull precisely doled out, irresistibly, inescapable, and Will cannot see, he cannot breathe, his body forced into iridescent pleasure, cresting in a wave that breaks with a scream, warmth branding him from within. 

 

*****

 

Will rolls over in the early morning light, his gaze opening to an expanse of skin, the old scar of Mason Verger’s branding scratched through with an angry red line, dried blood adorning it. He swallows, hesitating and then reaches out, fingertips ghosting over the wound he put there, ending in the barely healed gun shot scar. He sees the inhale before the words, sleepy still but alert. “I would wish for this mark to be fully destroyed by the throes of passion eventually.” Hannibal turns slightly, enough to look at him, head cushioned on his arms.  
Will smiles gently, shifting so he is lying next to him in similar fashion, his body hurting in places. But in a good way. He licks his lips, words carrying a teasing undertone. “I will do my very best.”  
Hannibal exhales in a rush, tilting his head, his eyes sparkling red in the sun. “I am sorry to inform you though, that our first position in the shower was not among the… sophisticated and classy art.”  
Will clicks his tongue in put on exasperation. “Darn.” He blinks slowly, licking his lips slowly, watches as Hannibal watches. “Though the other one was.” Will pushes his finger up against Hannibal’s lips before he can retort, chuckling softly. “Don’t worry, darling. Art needs to be perfected after all.”  
Hannibal leans forward and pulls Will in for a scorching kiss, ending it with a peck to Will’s chin. “Oh yes. And try out the squid.”  
Will groans and then shakes his head, lightly bumping his fist against Hannibal’s shoulder. “You’re lucky I love you. We will talk about that later.”  
Hannibal chuckles and then pulls Will on top, just holding and Will settles down, held down and protecting, sated and yet excited, his mind exploding with possibilities. And art.

**Author's Note:**

> ________
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you liked!  
> If you want another one of those... photos reenacted (or something else) drop me a prompt! :)  
> (Turns out I really like prompts^^)


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